Barreling Catfish
by PureWaterLily
Summary: The blasphemy that is Sasuke falling in love. With some dude. That he literally met a week ago. Post-end. SasuIta.


**A/N:** Canon divergence starting chapter 402. Story takes place 12 years later.

.

Sasuke leans against a store front, loaded with two sets of bloated paper bags threatening to tear at the corners and an umbrella propped against his leg. Peeking over one of his bags are the blushes of tomatoes and the stalk of a leek. The other bag contains ten rolls of toilet paper soaked to three times their weight.

He shoots the sky an annoyed look, waiting alongside the other locals for the thunder to clear, before braving through the remaining drizzle to his next destination.

The shop is more traditional than he anticipated, warm with incense and a clank of bamboo at the door. His eyes catch a movement down one of the aisles, a cat that has taken perch on an antique shelf. Its tail sways over the compartment of scrolls, peridot eyes examining the new customer in wariness.

"May I help you, okyaku-sama?"

Sasuke whips his head, having missed the presence by his side. The storekeeper bows, his smile calm and amiable, not a fold of his uniform out of place. It catches Sasuke off guard, to be in the company of someone better presented than he, and becomes conscious of his own miserable state. He takes caution to not let the rainwater soak past the matted area of the floor, reinforcing his grip on his double-stacked bags.

"Yes, I am looking for this particular work." He presents a note. "I heard this place may have it."

The shopkeeper reads the serial number, before nodding. Sasuke follows him to the back, past a myriad of wall calligraphy, and soon finds himself before an explosion of... pink. Layers after layer of blossoms stain the kakemono, ink wild and exuberant.

Although the shopkeeper makes no comment, Sasuke still feels the need to explain. "I'm running an errand for my brother."

The shopkeeper nods understandingly.

"It's for his fiancee," Sasuke quickly supplements, and the nod is displaced by a smile.

"He must love her considerably."

"Unfortunately so," Sasuke snorts. "Can't go an hour without that blasted phone ringing off."

Sasuke stops when he sees the price tag and realizes what the shopkeeper is actually implying.

Oh.

Just as Sasuke prepares to leave then and there, dignity be damned, the shopkeeper offers sympathetically, "Would you perhaps be interested in an imitation?"

"Can it fool the best doujutsu in the world?" Sasuke mumbles.

This time, the shopkeeper's smile is different, overshadowed by the glint in his eyes. "If it is discovered to be fake, you may keep it for free."

It is not as if Sasuke has many options at this point. Fiancee or no fiancee, their family is not dishing out 500,000 ryou for a piece of parchment, if Sasuke has any say on it.

"How much?"

The shopkeeper pauses in contemplation. "5,000 ryou."

"Deal."

The cat descends from the shelf, landing onto the register counter. It eyes the exchange of papers, before settling its gaze on Sasuke again. The shopkeeper notices its cautious crouch and twisted tail, but makes no comment.

"The painting will be available for delivery in three days. May I have an address?"

"District 6, E block, 0-2-11."

"Oh, the dojo?"

"That's the one." Sasuke sets his own pen down, sliding the bank check across the counter. The storekeeper stamps it twice, then deposits it inside a drawer, where he retrieves something else.

By Sasuke's foot are his groceries, the paper bags already ripped a quarter way, propped against one another like two ridiculously inflated tulips. Wordlessly, the storekeeper offers one of the plastic bags, and together, they load the groceries inside before the paper could tear completely.

With a smile, the shopkeeper asks, "Anything else I may help you with, okyaku-sama?"

Sasuke tests the weight looped around his wrists, considerably more pleased than before. "No, that will be all."

A bow. "May you have a safe commute."

.`

Sasuke aligns his shoes at the genkan, tossing his umbrella in the bin. "I'm home."

"In here!"

The call comes from their bathroom. When Sasuke opens the door, he is greeted by a look of raw desperation.

"Please tell me you bought more toilet paper."

Deadpanned, Sasuke tosses him one of the newly purchased rolls.

"Oi, it's soggy!"

Sasuke ignores the complaint, already headed off to the kitchen. From the refrigerator, he collects the ingredients for dinner, as well as find the culprit responsible for yet another episode of diarrhea.

Vein popping, Sasuke holds up the milk carton to the entering figure. "Naruto, I've told you no more dairy. You're lactose intolerant." He punctuates with a slam of the carton in the trash.

Naruto rubs his ass, still sore after being glued to the toilet for unspeakable hours. "I'm not! That… that was just a bad batch."

"And the time before that?"

"I didn't know it expired."

"And the time before that?"

"I swear they forgot to homogenize it."

"Do you even know what homogenize means," Sasuke says, massaging the bridge of his nose.

Naruto opens his mouth, only to close it again. "It means I'm not lactose intola-whatawhat, that's what it means." His voice drops to a whine, his hands clapped in a beg. "Come on, I've had milk my entire life. You'd think I know if I'm allergic to it."

"That is not how lactose intolerance _works_ ," Sasuke hisses. Before Naruto could retort, Sasuke has tossed him a carton from the grocery bag. "Here, got you this."

Naruto grimaces at the soy milk. "Augh, no way!"

"Then this. Or this." Sasuke tosses him one can after the next. "They all have sufficient protein content and won't make me have to deal with your very much literal crap." Naruto is juggling the various products of almond, rice, and coconut when a fish slaps on his face. "Now cook dinner."

With that, Sasuke makes his leave.

All the cans drop onto the floor, while the raw fish slips down Naruto's face. "Asshole." Then, louder, "By the way, did you remember to-"

"Yes," comes the call from the hallway.

"What about-"

"Done."

"We still got the-"

"Fixing it now."

Still an asshole, but one that Naruto would marry. "Fish teriyaki, coming right up!"

.

Sasuke lowers his katana, as his opponent to clumsily falls onto the bamboo flooring.

"Next," he calls.

With a scream, a girl charges, weapon overhead. Two seconds later, she is piled on top of the other student.

"Counterbalance." When there is no one left standing in the dojo, he resheathes. "You need to correct for not only the weight of your body, but of your weapon as well."

With awed expressions, the class scrambles from the floor and bows. "Hai, sensei!"

It is after dismissal, when all gear has been properly returned to the racks and students made their final bows, that Sasuke notices the figure kneeling by the entryway. Beside the person is a satchel, approximately two meters long.

Sasuke's hand leaves the rack. "My apologies, please rise," he says on his approach.

"Thank you."

Sasuke recognizes him as the shopkeeper from three days ago, though not by face or dress. It is by air, the way he unravels from his form with remarkable fluidity, to rise without a single crinkle. Even veteran martial artists have difficulty obtaining such silence.

"I've brought the work you requested," the shopkeeper said, retrieving a cylindrical container from the satchel. "I hope it will be to your satisfaction."

Sasuke accepts the container, though he only spares it a half glance before his eyes return to the opposing man. "Kneel for me."

"Pardon?"

Sasuke does not correct himself, so after a pause, the shopkeeper lowers himself back in seiza. Sasuke studies the motion, the furrow in his brows deepening.

"What's your practice?"

The shopkeeper waits for clarification, so Sasuke impatient lists, "Judo, aikido, karate…"

It is here that the shopkeeper understands, as he smiles. "Hospitality."

So that's it, hospit-

Sasuke fights back a blink. "Hospitality?"

The shopkeeper lowers his gaze to the satchel. "And art. Though that is more of a hobby."

"I see." Sasuke strains to keep his tone even, the package in his hands forgotten. "Would you be interested in trying something different?"

"Which would be?"

"Kenjutsu, Fire-style. We offer taijutsu as well."

The shopkeeper contemplates over the offer, seemingly intrigued though his expression is too ambiguous for Sasuke to say for sure. "I will consider."

Satisfied, Sasuke turns his attention to the scroll painting. From a superficial glance, there is no noticeable difference from the one in his memory, so he rolls it backs up and returns the scroll to its container. "Thank you for providing this."

.

When Naruto returns from the afternoon lesson, he catches Sasuke on the ladder again, wrench in mouth. Sasuke makes a beckoning gesture, so Naruto lowers his bag in favor of throwing him a bolt from toolkit below.

"I thought we got all the pipes fixed?"

Sasuke scowls. "We did." Until the last thunderstorm destroyed them again. Which he really should have seen coming, given that the architecture of their building is over two hundred years old. When the roof isn't collapsing, the floors are oozing gods-know-what.

And despite what Naruto believes, Sasuke is not a miracle worker.

Sasuke critically examines the pipe, waiting, only to be pelted by another droplet of water in the eye. Growling, he beckons for the duct tape.

In the end, another bucket is placed in their hallway to catch the leak. When Sasuke gets the time, he will place an order for a repair sleeve. Their budget is too tight to hire a proper maintenance crew, who would probably just tell them to tear the whole place down anyway.

As they prepare dinner together, Naruto asks about the scroll painting and what the other preparations are needed. The fiancee's family will be coming over in two months, and given the length of their travels, the hosting better be impressive.

Sasuke drains the rice basin, before setting it on the counter. His mind is running through the work ahead of them, though their problem is not a matter of time, but one of money. Speaking of money...

"Naruto, a potential new student is coming tomorrow. Do you mind showing up after my lesson? Recruit him in?" Of the two, Naruto has the better talent for persuasion.

"Yeah, sure! The guy any good?"

"Who knows." They are not in a position to be extra selective these days. Although, "He has a good seiza."

Naruto snorts. "Wow, he's good at getting on his knees."

"So are you."

While Sasuke smirks, Naruto simply looks scandalized.

Naruto rolls up his sleeves. "You want to come at me, bro?"

A fish slaps onto his face.

Sasuke chuckles, ducking the bok choy that comes flying his way.

.

Itachi straps on his shoes, ignoring the cat's pawing at his leg. The little fellow has been acting strange for the past days, presumably as a result of all the thunderstorms.

"Ah, thank you for all your help," he says, hand at the door.

A wave from the cash register. "No problem, nii-san. Have fun!"

Limbs of wisteria sway under the breeze, leaving the air pleasant and redolent of childhood. It is not the first time Itachi climbs up the winding steps to the dojo, though the architecture never fails to leave him in appreciation.

The pillars and arches are saturated with history, the relics dating to an era as old as the samurai. Admittedly, not the proudest moments of history, mostly rebellions and sieges, slaughters and suicides, the scars of state and religion. The town would much rather destroy the entire estate as it has all the others. Itachi is glad the previous owners chose not to, and neither have the current ones.

His second time watching the kenjutsu master is as enjoyable as the first, a type of aesthetic in his movements and design that captures the eye.

Itachi has never considered martial arts as study he would follow, but there is something undeniably alluring about it, something about the way the sword swings that races his heart.

At the conclusion of the lesson, after all the students have made their exits, they make eye contact.

"I'm glad you made it."

Sasuke makes an effort to keep courteous. Too often his tone comes out too sharp, his words too blunt. Only belatedly did he realize he may not have given the best impression on their last meeting, so he is relieved to see the shopkeeper visit again nonetheless. Now Naruto only needs to work his charisma, and they may have another paying student.

If Naruto ever arrives.

Sasuke can feel the vein on his temple bulging, until there is finally a dramatic entry from the opposite door. Naruto runs his fingers through his hair, jacket still half zipped. "Hey, sorry I'm late! You must be the new-!"

Sasuke inwardly sighs, glad to be freed from any more small talk. "May I introduce you to Naruto. Naruto, this is…"

"Itachi." The shopkeeper gives a polite bow. One is expected in return, but Naruto only continues to stare with his mouth half open.

"Itachi-san," Sasuke hesitantly says, eyeing Naruto's frozen posture. "He might be interested in our dojo, and I was wondering if you could maybe… talk to him... about it."

Naruto still has not reacted. A pinch later, he jolts out of whatever trance he is in, as he forces to make his mouth move.

And his first word is, "R-roaches."

Itachi blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"We've got, um, roaches." Naruto collects himself. "Horrible infestation. Can't even spar in here without stepping on one. All that crunching and, and… Sasuke here, he ain't even that good?"

Now Sasuke is seriously offended but ultimately ignored, as Naruto continues. "And you! You don't strike me as a martial arts type. Martial arts is all about violence and embracing the inner macho, and well, to be honest, you look like a flake-"

While Itachi stands, more perplexed than wounded, Sasuke keeps his hand over Naruto's mouth. "I apologize," he says evenly. "He's drunk."

Naruto pries Sasuke's hand off him. "Yes! We're raging alcoholics-!"

"I apologize," Sasuke repeats, as he holsters Naruto's unconscious body over his shoulder. Despite his calm outward demeanor, his brain is racking for some excuse for abysmal turn of events. He settles for the first to come to mind. "I have a foolish little brother."


End file.
